


Catch Me If You Can

by Amynion



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Adventure, Gen, Humor, Hurt Aramis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 00:06:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13775478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amynion/pseuds/Amynion
Summary: Aramis makes a habit of falling.Falling in love, falling out of windows, falling off his own two feet.Luckily Athos is there to catch him.





	Catch Me If You Can

“Of all the stupid, foolish, reckless…” Athos’ rant was cut off as he wrestled with a branch blocking his way. “We should not have taken that path!”

“I know.” Came Aramis’ downtrodden reply as he trudged behind.

“We should have arranged another decoy for the letter!”

“I know.”

“We should not have split up! Merde!” Athos tripped on a root and cursed.

“I know.”

“And you should definitely not have gone charging at them like a deranged elephant!”

“Catch me.”

“What?”

Athos turned and frowned only to find himself with an armful of Aramis.

“Merde!”

**~oOo~**

It had seemed a simple enough mission at the time - Transport a letter from A to B. Unfortunately it seemed there were others with a stake in the correspondence, and A to B suddenly became a lot more complicated. They took the main road, it was the quickest, but also the easiest to be waylaid upon. And waylaid they were, by a good number of men armed to the teeth.

After extricating themselves from that situation the four decided to split up. A few of their attackers had turned tail, it was a reasonable assumption they hadn’t taken fright - they were off to alert the rest of their men. And so it was decided Porthos and d’Artagnan would take the letter, while Aramis and Athos would forge a different (hopefully more obvious) path to lead them astray. The musketeers arranged to meet up at an inn near the delivery location. 

Athos and Aramis took a route that led into a wooded area. The earlier rain of the day made the fresh hoof prints of their horses stand out on the muddied road. It wasn’t long before they detected a few riders approaching from behind. A loud whistle and a yell went up, and that’s when Aramis - the damned fool - had charged. He shot one down as he went and then leapt at them from his horse. Of course Athos waded in soon after. He dragged Aramis out and pulled him into the undergrowth. He didn’t have time to mount, and the horses wouldn’t manage the close set trees. They left several dead and wounded behind them. The voices of the few remaining echoed through the wood:

“Get them over here! The musketeers have gone into the trees!”

“We’ll lose them if they don’t make haste!”

And that was how the pair found themselves trudging through the woods. They had been quiet at first, in light of the pursuit, but once Athos was sure they were quite alone he set to ranting. He supposed he should have realised something was wrong when Aramis’ answers became shorter, and more agreeable. The collapse surprised him though.

He set Aramis down on the ground and propped him against a tree. All the while Athos cursed his foolish brother. A cursory examination revealed a considerable patch of red along Aramis’ side. He had kept it hidden with an arm clamped against the wound. Athos cursed him again for hiding it, and then he cursed himself for not noticing it. 

“Where did a Comte learn such uncouth language?” Came Aramis’ weak voice.

“Where did you learn to be such a reckless lunatic? How did this happen?” Athos tore a strip from around Aramis’ ruined shirt and pressed it to the wound.

Aramis swallowed hard at the pressure and his feet scrabbled against the ground as if to move away from the pain. “Sword. Caught me, when I… ahh... when I jumped.”

“What the hell did you do that for?”

“They were… weren’t expecting it.” He said with a shaky smile.

“We were supposed to be leading them away, not crashing into them with wild abandon.” Athos hoped his displeased frown could be seen in the dimming light.

“Worked didn’t it?”

“Well, that depends on what you were trying to achieve. If it included getting wounded, collapsing in my arms and worrying me to death, then it worked fantastically.” Athos checked the wound and then pressed down a little harder. “Personally I would have settled with leading them a merry chase, losing them in the woods, and meeting up with the others without incident.”

“This isn’t…” Aramis closed his eyes and grit his teeth. “... an incident.”

“Then what is it? We’re stranded in the middle of the woods, you’re bleeding like a stuck pig, we have no supplies, and those men could still be out there.”

“A slight setback.” 

Athos couldn’t help but give a wry smile. “My friend, your optimism never ceases to astound me.” He checked the wound again and sighed. “This will need stitches. Let me guess - your kit is in your saddlebag?”

Aramis gave a short nod. 

“Then I will wrap it as best I can.” Athos voice turned serious for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me you were wounded?”

“Had to keep moving.”

“You should have told me. We could have slowed down, I could have… helped.” Instead of marching off ahead and complaining bitterly.

“You did.” Aramis placed a shaky hand over Athos’. “You caught me.”

Athos paused a moment in his ministrations. Then he gave a slight smile. “Maybe I should have let you fall. Might have knocked some sense into that head of yours.”

“Many have tried, my friend, many have tried.”

Athos used Aramis’ sash to bind the wound. He pulled it tight and Aramis gave an involuntary whine. 

“We should stop here for the night. It’s not much of a camp, but we can’t risk blundering about in the dark.”

“I don’t blunder… Prowl, like a tiger.” Aramis’ speech had turned muzzy.

Whether he was succumbing to blood loss or tiredness, trying to move on would not help.

“Prowling then. However you move about in the dark, we’ll only end up getting lost, and you’ll end up bleeding to death.” Athos settled himself down next to Aramis. “I’ll keep watch, you sleep.”

“Do you think we did it?”

“Did what?”

“Did we give Porthos and d’Artagnan enough time?”

“They’ll be safe. Don’t worry about them.”

Athos rested his head against the uncomfortable trunk and set to worrying about Porthos, d’Artagnan, and perhaps most of all - Aramis.

**~oOo~**

It was a few hours later when Athos saw a distant light through the trees. He thought for a moment that he was seeing things. But it persisted and was joined by another. A shout followed after and shot him to awareness. Torches. There were men with torches. 

“Wake up.” Athos hissed, and gave Aramis’ face a gentle pat.

Aramis stirred reluctantly.

“We have to move. Men are coming.”

He didn’t have time for Aramis to rouse and gain his senses. Athos roughly pulled Aramis to his feet, hushed his moan of pain and set to forging a path through the trees with Aramis’ arm slung around his shoulders. 

It was difficult, the near pitch black night concealed branches and roots that reached out to impede their way. A time or two they nearly crashed to the ground, but Athos steadied his friend, they recovered and kept moving. Aramis was quiet, too quiet, his head lolled and Athos would have given anything to stop and see to him. But the shouts had grown louder and the torches more numerous. They pressed on.

Eventually the trees started to thin out and Athos found himself in a field. A farmhouse with a barn stood in the distance. It would be a risk to move across the open expanse should the men following reach the tree line - They would make for exceptionally easy targets. But the barn would make for a good shelter. Athos took in a harsh breath, then another. And he made up his mind. He rushed across the field as fast as he could with Aramis’ faltering footsteps beside him. 

They made it to the barn without incident and Athos set about concealing them with bales of hay. He was watched by a few curious animals, but luckily none were alarmed enough to call out. Quietly he settled down with Aramis and listened to his friend’s harsh breaths. While it was a worry to hear him struggle it did at least mean Aramis was still alive. 

Athos was on the verge of drifting off when a loud banging shocked him from his stupor. It continued until a woman’s angry voice asked what on earth was going on. The men in pursuit must have been knocking at the farmhouse door.

“Have any musketeers been by here?”

“Not seen any musketeers, now leave me be. It’s the middle of the night! Who do you think you are knocking on-”

The woman quieted at the sound of a pistol cocking.

“Not that I don’t believe you, Madame. But if you don’t mind we’ll take a look around all the same. You two, check the outbuildings! We’ll look inside.”

Athos’ breath nearly stalled in his throat as he heard approaching footsteps. Unfortunately the loud knocking had roused Aramis, but he wasn’t fully aware.

“Wha… what…”

“Hush, men are coming.”

The barn doors were thrown open and Aramis moaned. 

Athos put a hand over his mouth and hissed. “For the love of God, be quiet!”

But the hand only seemed to agitate Aramis, he pulled at Athos and tried to call out.

Thankfully a donkey chose that moment to loudly bray at the intruders. 

“Shut up! Stupid beast.”

“Nothing but stinking animals. Look over there, I’ll try the loft.”

A sword suddenly thrust into the hay and Athos held on to Aramis all the more tightly. It came again, and missed his shoulder by an inch.

“Nobody here. We’re wasting our time, they must have kept moving.”

Athos could have melted with relief. But he wouldn’t let go of Aramis until he was sure the men were well away. Finally his hand dropped and his head fell back against the hay. Aramis moaned and curled up. 

“Aramis?” 

He was shaking slightly.

“Let me see.” Athos put a hand to the sash and swore as it came away wet. “We’ve got to get you inside.”

“No… men.”

“They’ve gone. It’s safe.” But what if they hadn’t? What if they were still inside? What if they had left a man behind just in case?

What if Aramis bled out on the barn floor?

Athos pulled Aramis out of the hay and dragged him round to the farmhouse door. His hand hesitated as he reached out to knock, but they needed the help. 

A woman opened the door a sliver. “Go away.”

“Please, my friend is wounded. I just need to tend to him and we’ll be on our way.”

“Musketeers?”

“Yes, we’ll be no trouble, on our honour.”

“There are men after you.”

“I know, that’s how he came to be wounded. Will you let us in? I fear he’ll not survive much longer.”

She seemed to war with herself, but then the door was opened and she ushered them in.

“Place him down by the fire.”

“Thank you Madame. My name is Athos, and my friend here is Aramis.”

“I am Madame Caron.”

“Might I trouble you for some water and a sewing kit? Is Monsieur Caron at home? I will have to stitch his wound and another pair of strong hands would be a help.”

“He is away in Paris, along with our sons. But I can provide you with the rest.”

Athos pulled Aramis’ doublet open and pushed the shirt aside to reveal the gash. It was long and deep, though thankfully not deep enough to damage anything vital. In the light of the fire Aramis looked as pale as a ghost. Dark smudges marred his closed eyes and his breath came in shallow gasps as if he just hadn’t enough energy to hold on to the air.

A basin of water with a cloth appeared beside Athos. He whispered his thanks and began to wash away the blood. Aramis flinched at the first stinging touch of cold water, but then he lay still, save for those laboured, gasped breaths. With each dip of the cloth the water turned rusty. But Athos still felt Madame Caron watching over his shoulder.

He shot her a concerned look. “Madame, you do not have to stay. This next part may be a little more distressing.”

“Monsieur, I will not quail at the sight of blood or pain. I’ve seen enough of both out here.”

Athos gave a tight smile. He supposed life on a farm was a little more raw than his own experience as a Comte. 

Madame Caron went to sit on Aramis’ other side. She swiped the hair from his forehead and took his hand within her own. Aramis roused and watched her through hazy eyes. He lolled his head towards Athos with a slight frown.

“I’m going to stitch your wound. Aramis, are you listening? Aramis?” 

His eyes wandered, Athos wasn’t sure he was entirely with them. 

“Here, bite down.” Athos placed Aramis’ collar between his teeth and smiled as he followed the instruction. “It’ll be over soon, I’ll be quick.”

Athos gently restrained Aramis arm beneath his leg, and set about stitching the wound. Aramis growled and stiffened as needle pierced flesh over and over. His hand tightened around Madame Caron’s but she didn’t flinch, she simply whispered soothing words as he writhed against the pain. True to his word, Athos was quick. It wasn’t pretty, but at least Aramis wouldn’t suffer overly long. He tied off the thread and sat back with a long exhaled breath.

“It’s done.”

Aramis released his collar, but kept a hold of Madame Caron’s hand.

“Madame, I do not like to impose upon you much longer, but could we perhaps stay for the night and set off in the morning?”

“Of course. I’ll find some blankets so that he can be made more comfortable.” 

But she didn’t make a move until Aramis’ grip loosened and he drifted away.

**~oOo~**

The next morning found Aramis sat up sipping at some broth Madame Caron had made for him.

The woman herself was busy around the kitchen with Athos doing what he could to help. He felt in her debt. “You may stay for as long as you need to. I would hate to see those men find you on the road, especially with your friend in such a bad way.” 

“That is very kind of you, but we must meet up with our friends. They’re going to be wondering where we are.”

“If you insist, I would lend you our horse and cart, but I’m afraid my husband has taken it with him. The best I can offer is a donkey.”

“Do not worry Madame, we’ll manage.”

After checking Aramis’ wound over and ensuring he was fit to travel, the pair said their thanks to Madame Caron and Athos led Aramis outside.

“No.” Aramis stopped and pulled Athos to a standstill with him.

“What?”

“I am not riding that thing.”

“That thing has a name - Brutus. And he is perfectly adequate.”

“They’ll laugh.”

“Maybe next time you’ll think about this when when you get the urge to recklessly leap on top of our enemies.”

“I can walk.”

“I can’t help but notice I’m supporting most of your weight.”

Athos stepped away from Aramis and watched him waver.

“Catch me!”

This time he was prepared when Aramis’ legs gave way. Athos caught Aramis and pulled him over to the donkey.

“Do you need help?”

Aramis glared.

Athos bent and offered a leg up.

**~oOo~**

They cut quite the heroic sight when they approached the inn - Athos walking along leading a donkey, with Aramis fuming on its back.

Porthos and d’Artagnan were just leading their horses out of the stable when they caught sight of their brothers. The horses were momentarily forgotten as they ran over.

“Where the hell have you been?! We were just about to ride out to look for you!” Porthos embraced Athos and stepped back to look at Aramis. “Why are you riding a donkey?”

“Stop laughing.” 

The initial relief at seeing their friends alive had given way to mirth. Porthos grinned while d’Artagnan tried to hide a smirk behind his hand.

“Gentlemen, we suffered a slight setback.” Athos gave a wry smile. 

Aramis swung his leg over the donkey’s back and promptly crashed to the ground.

He stared up and spat out dust. “You didn’t catch me.”

“And has it knocked any sense into you?”

“No.”

“Oh well, maybe next time.”   
  


**Author's Note:**

> This was a response to a tumblr prompt: https://promptsforyourwhumpfic.tumblr.com/post/171167874557/whump-prompt-67
> 
> Whump Prompt #67
> 
> “Catch me.” character A mutters, wavering on the spot. “What?” Character B says before Character A promptly collapses ( presumably from an unknown injury/ illness.)
> 
> Banged this out in a couple of hours, so please forgive any mistakes in this quick and dirty bit of fic. I'm barely proof reading it :P


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